


‘Cause ain’t nobody like you

by littenblomst



Category: Simonverse | Creekwood Series - Becky Albertalli
Genre: M/M, No coming out, Secret Relationship, just read this and lemme know if i should give it a shot, no martin addison, this is really random
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-19 05:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20204149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littenblomst/pseuds/littenblomst
Summary: There’s this boy, who sits at our table during lunch, who has all the requirements to apply to a freaking IVY League. He’s this soccer star with this beautiful, beautiful brain and he’ll absolutely get what he wants (and deserve honestly: I have two classes with him and he’s always so smart, he takes the best notes and he borrows them. Like, do you know how hard it is to find someone who’s cute, and sporty, and smart and humble enough to help the others?).Sorry, I was rambling. I may be crushing on him but don’t be too jealous. Although he seems too cute to be, I’m sure he’s perfectly straight and not into mediocre dudes who can’t even decide which college is desperate enough to get them in.or, the one where Martin Addison never found their e-mails and, one year later, Simon and Bram are still in the closet, but together.





	1. my mind’s still wrapped around you

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
So, it’s been a while since the last time I wrote about these two, especially in English. This is not my first language, so I don’t know if it's grammatically correct or not, but I wanted to try. I've got inspired and I still have the whole idea in my head, but I've written only the first chapter so far. It's not so long, however, because it's just a try. Tell me if you think I should give this story a shot. <3

**FROM: ** [hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com](mailto:hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com)

**TO: ** [bluegreen118@gmail.com](mailto:bluegreen118@gmail.com)

**DATE: **September the 27th, 07:31 am

**SUBJECT: **Senior Year.

_Dear Blue,_

How were your first weeks as a senior? Mine were perfectly normal. The only thing that has changed is the amount of homework because, you know, SATs and colleges and all that stuff.

Teachers, in their not-so-intimidating way, are pressing us into deciding the college we should apply for. Is it okay, if I find it kinda mortifying? We’re seniors, we should know where we want to go and they just assume that we have no freaking clue about it, because we’re young and we don’t know anything about ourselves.

What mortifies me the most is that, in my case, they’re really, very, freaking right. My best friends already decided where to go and what to study. There’s this boy, who sits at our table during lunch, who has all the requirements to apply to a freaking IVY League. He’s this soccer star with this beautiful, beautiful brain and he’ll absolutely get what he wants (and deserve honestly: I have two classes with him and he’s always so smart, he takes the best notes and he borrows them. Like, do you know how hard it is to find someone who’s cute, and sporty, and smart and humble enough to help the others?).

Sorry, I was rambling. I may be crushing on him but don’t be too jealous. Although he seems too cute to be, I’m sure he’s perfectly straight and not into mediocre dudes who can’t even decide which college is desperate enough to get them in.

What about _you_? I think you could apply to some fancy school as well. Maybe in the same city of mine.

Maybe we’ll meet like that, doing our shopping in a normal supermarket. Not that I would recognize you, but can you imagine the scene? Me, trying to get to Oreos and put my hand on the last package in the very same moment as you do. Halloween Oreos. That would be so freaking romantic, Blue.

Don’t you think?

Love, Jacques.

“So, you had a dream…” Simon’s talking to Nick, mindlessly pushing his fries in front of Bram. It’s definitely their thing, now: the moon-grey eyed boy always takes the double portion, eats a few and then gives them to the cute, shy boy who always greets him with a small smile and a soft blush on his cheeks. Whenever he looks like that, Simon’s stomach does this thing which he can’t decide if it’s a fling or not, but it’s very, very gay.

“I was a dinosaur” Nick’s voice isn’t so low, but it seems like a ten miles away sound. Simon’s concentration it’s all on the way Bram eats his fries, looking down like he’s too overwhelmed by the other’s gazes. He understands, he surely does. He just can’t help but being awed by the little things he does, like staring away anytime someone glares too long at him because of its natural beautifulness or letting small laughs out of is lips whenever Nick talks about his crazy dreams. Simon was right in his e-mails: Bram Greenfeld is too cute to be straight.

“And you were dying, I guess?”

Simon’s still not focusing on his best friend, but he’s found enough self-control to address his gaze on his plate and take a bite of the awful cheeseburger he’s eating. They really must start having lunch outside, now that they’re seniors.

“I was the last dinosaur alive, I couldn’t! I had to help regenerate the specie.”

He can feel himself raising an eyebrow at that statement and he doesn’t have to look at Bram to know he’s done just the exact same thing.

“So, you weren’t the last.” Bram says, unsure.

“What?”

“You needed a female dinosaur to procreate.”

“Yeah… there was a dinosaur.”

“Did you have a dinosaur sex dream, Nick?” Leah lets the question slipping out of her mouth in the most cynical and unforgivable way, allowing everyone to start teasing Nick but Simon doesn’t really find himself to care enough about anything that doesn’t revolve about Bram and the fact that he’s, honestly-to-God, laughing.

“I hate you all!” Nick’s saying, through his own giggles.

**FROM: ** [bluegreen118@gmail.com](mailto:bluegreen118@gmail.com)

**TO: ** [hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com](mailto:hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com)

**DATE: **September the 27th, 06:24 pm

**SUBJECT: **RE: Senior Year.

_Dear Jacques,_

I’m sorry to hear about your insecurities.

I’m so used to see your excitement about everything that sometimes I forget you’re a regular teenager with regular fears that I have as well, even if I’m going to apply to an IVY League. Because, you know, I’m a soccer star with good grades.

Sounds like you’ve got a type.

I feel like I should be jealous, but I can’t because I’m pretty sure that my boyfriend is cuter than your straight crush (is he, though? Have you asked him?). He sits at my table at lunch too and he doesn’t know where he’s going to school after this year: he’s a theatre kid and he’s really, really dramatic but I wouldn’t have him any other way. I met him on the Internet, a year ago. We used pseudonyms as long as we could but then, this summer, we took enough courage to have a date. It’s been three months now, but sometimes he still e-mails me like he doesn’t know who I am, like I’m not his.

You’re such a dork.

If I were your straight crush, I’d probably kiss your face off now.

Wait–I _am _your straight crush.

Really, I’m your very straight boyfriend.

Is this a good moment to come out and tell you I’m gay?

God, I’m just as dork as you are, now.

Tomorrow, I want to talk about this college thing, face to face. Some things need to be said during cuddle sessions, don’t you think?

Love, Bram.

(you really have to stop looking at me with your big moon-grey eyes when we’re in public, though.)

(it’s so hard not to melt under your gaze.)

(and it’s so hard to pretend that I’m not into you, when you look at me like that.)


	2. but that’s just what i needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Blue and Jacques were enough as long as I didn’t know what kissing you meant. I don’t know if I can go back to a life where I can’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
So, after reading the comments of the first chapter, I’ve decided to continue this. I’ve got lots of ideas about this story, even if it’s mostly fluff and soft by now. It won’t be much longer, though.  
Let me know what do you think. <3

Their fingers are intertwined, softly resting on Simon’s lap while Bram’s spooning him, his cheek hidden in the other’s smooth bed head. They’ve been quiet for a while now, simply enjoying the fact that they’re alone in the big and noisy Spier’s home. Nora is with some friends, while the parents have decided to go on a date and spend some quality time alone: Simon’s happy about it. Not only because, thanks to their love, he can share some moments with Bram too, but because he knows right now how therapeutic is, hugging the person you care about the most and just feeling comforted by them.

“So,” Bram starts, his index finger drawing some invisible circles on a specific little spot on the other’s hand. It’s kind of relaxing but Simon doesn’t expect anything different from his boyfriend, who has discovered every possible way to make him feel better. There’s so much love in Bram’s movements, Simon can’t help but feeling warm inside. “College, huh?” the brown eyed boy asks, seconds later.

A soft growl escapes from Simon’s lips. It’s not like he didn’t know he would have brought that up, it’s just that he’s finding himself so content, in the other’s arms, he doesn’t want to think about anything else. “What about it?”

Bram gently rolls Simon onto his back, pressing his own elbow on the mattress to stay still. The hand that was once on his, slowly got into the other’s hair, brushing it softly. He has a tender smile on his face and it’s like he’s pounding his own words. He always looks so concentrate, like he has to weight everything he does. Simon loves his carefulness but, sometimes, he wishes he could just demolish his fear of being inappropriate. It’s not like Simon’s going to break up with him because he said a sentence instead of another.

“Are you scared you will not find the right college for you or are you scared nobody is going to accept you?”

That’s the one billion dollars question, actually.

“I’m just not so sure about the possibilities and I don’t think I’m so smart that I can have unclear ideas. It’s not like schools would fight to get me in…” Bram huffs, gently pressing his thumb on Simon’s cheek. He leans, just a little, only to place a small kiss on those beautiful, humble and liars lips.

“I don’t know. Maybe if they saw how cute you are, they would,” he tries, making Simon laughs.

“Be serious!”

“I am, indeed, serious. Baby, we’re all just numbers, it’s not like we mean something to them. They see our appliance and decide if we’re worthy to frequent their courses. They would not even fight for Einstein.”

“Everyone’s would fight for you, though. You’re literally a soccer star with straight A’s. How can you forget? Your grades are the only straight things about you.”

Bram lets out a small laugh, before rolling his eyes in a lovely and witty manner. He has this light sparkling in his dark brown irises when he does that, like he’s somehow gently judging Simon for his lack of solemnity. It’s another thing that makes Simon falling in love all over again.

“If I’m not allowed to make jokes about how cute you are, you are not allowed to make jokes about how gay I am.”

“But it’s a statement of facts that you’re gay.”

“Just as much as it is that you are the prettiest boy in the world.”

The theatre kid blushes and stays quiet, before letting out a small given up sigh. He’ll never get used to the way Bram says this kind of things to him, like it’s something known. He says that Simon’s pretty like he’d say that America was discovered in 1492. It’s not a subjective fact, it’s something that is perfectly acknowledge by the entire universe.

“However, yeah, maybe I’ve got a shot to start Columbia next September. I have spent my whole life just to arrive here, but you have not. It’s not a bad thing, babe. It means that a fancy school wasn’t your dream all along,” Bram stars again, before being pulled in by Simon. He gently rests his head on his chest, letting his boyfriend playing with his short brown curls. It’s like an anti-stress: the shorter boy always does that when he wants to calm himself down and think about his choices.

The room it’s quiet for some moments, before Simon speaks again.

“You are my dream.”

Bram laughs. “You can’t apply to my college. You already graduated. Full marks and all. You were a little recommended, because the Principal has a crush on you.”

“Does he?”

“Oh yeah, it’s been like four years.”

“He’s cute. I could hit on him.”

They both laugh, Bram all cuddled up in his boyfriend’s arms. That’s the thing about them: they can easily talk, without really moving their lips. Nine months of e-mailing did that: they could understand each other basing only on where a punctuation mark was put and, right now, they can do it just by hearing the other’s breathe or by the way they caress their skin. Bram closes his eyes, totally relaxed in Simon’s embrace.

“I’m scared, too,” he says, all of a sudden. Simon doesn’t move, still playing with his curls and looking above, at the ceiling. He’s not really surprised: not that he knows what his boyfriend his talking about, but he’s the thoughtful kind of person–and that being comes with some privileges, like being fearless or being frightening by everything. Bram’s the second one, for now, but that doesn’t make the shorter boy loving less.

It’s quite of a feeling, really, having a soccer and athletic kid as a boyfriend and still be the one that has to protect him from the world. Simon likes it. He feels important.

“By what?”

“I’m in a good place. Yes, nobody knows about me being gay or else, but I have you and a good school career. I have my friends. High school is great, actually.”

Simon’s caresses become a little gentler, whilst he’s hearing his boyfriend talking. He’s taking a pause but, somehow, the blonde knows he’s not done talking.

“What if college isn’t as good as high school was? What if my grades aren’t good at all, I do not make any friend and don’t get to see you as much as I want to?”

Simon knows where he’s coming from. They don’t know if they’ll happen to be in the same city and that’s really unlike, so the possibilities of being apart are strong. Sincerely, he doesn’t want to have this conversation now because, even if Jacques and Blue were strong, Simon and Bram are still in this honeymoon phase that troubles their minds. Right now, he doesn’t think that a long-distance relationship would bother him enough to break up, but he doesn’t know how he’ll feel at the end of the school year.

“We’ll always have Blue and Jacques.”

So, he says the thing that makes the most sense. He means that they could still e-mail each other, but he means more: no matter what happens, none could ever take what they had and what they now have, away from them. They will always belong to each other in the slightest, even if life tear them apart.

“Blue and Jacques were enough as long as I didn’t know what kissing you meant. I don’t know if I can go back to a life where I can’t.”

Bram obviously catches the first meaning of the sentence, but Simon isn’t really aware of that because he’s grinning lightly, before putting his index finger on his chin and take it up enough to press a kiss onto his lips.

It’s slow and tender and, after that, they don’t really have to talk. They kiss like they have all the time in the world and they kind of do, right now: because college is right away, but it’s still not in present: right now, only the two of them exist. Kissing and caressing the other’s body above clothes, in the most innocent and pure way.

“When is everybody coming back?” Bram asks after a while, still leaving slippery kisses along Simon’s neck, who has a hand resting on the other’s back, slowly caressing it. Their shirts are still on and they haven’t really moved further than kisses, but this make-out session has lasted for a while, now, and the blonde’s lips are slightly red and puffy, his hair messy. If only the soccer kid could concentrate enough to look at him, he would have loved the sight.

“Late. I guess Nora’s sleeping outside and my parents… they’re being teenagers.” Simon lets a small laugh out, sighing happily when he feels the other’s mouth going southern, lowing the shirt enough to give all his attention to Simon’s collarbone. He sucks a little, marking his skin slightly.

“That will leave a hickey.”

It’s a dumb thing to say, but Simon’s glad he did, because Bram’s eyes quickly go looking into his and he smiles a bit, amused.

“It will. I thought that your lover should have the proof that you belong to me.”

Simon huffs another laugh, before pulling his boyfriend closer to him, just to kiss him again. “As I would ever find someone I want more than I want you.”

Bram smiles again, sweeter than ever, before resting his head on Simon’s shoulder. “Not even Cal Price?” he teases, making him giggle. Simon _did _guess wrong Blue’s identity, some time ago, but luckily it lasted a few days: when he told Simon he didn’t like Reese’s, he absolutely deleted his name from the “may-be-Blue” list.

“I mean, I _indeed _would leave you if I got a shot with him,” Simon jokes, watching Bram’s finger caressing the red spot he made on his collarbone. He’s rewarded by a glare which makes him laugh. “C’mon! He’s cute, but you’re perfect.”

“Yeah, yeah–perfect.”

“You are.”

“I’m really not.”

“You know, there are some better things you could do with that mouth instead of telling bullshits.”

Bram rolls his eyes, before placing another kiss on Simon’s lips. It’s gentler than the others they’ve been sharing during this time alone.

“Yeah, like that,” Simon teases, before falling onto his boyfriend, making him rest on his own back. He leans over, kissing Bram once again in a less gentle way. The other gets quiet, putting his hands on Simon’s hips and pulling him in, kissing him slowly. He has to say it, he was right: there are so many things he could do with that mouth of his, that are so much better thank talking. Especially when your boyfriend’s parents aren’t home and won’t be for a few more hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are lovely, but comments really make my day. So, please! <3


End file.
